


Leave (for good)

by flowerrichie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent Lives, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerrichie/pseuds/flowerrichie
Summary: "I can't see myself in the family business” a pause. “Not anymore""That's a plan" Isaac's eyes lower as he talks and observes the water, turning dark, almost brownish. "You thought a lot about it""I did," Allison replies, quietly, before the real run. "And I thought about us, you know? Leaving together" Isaac's head snaps so quickly, that Allison's face has to go backwards on the edge of the bathtub to not be hit by his surprised reaction. "If you want to"-or, Allison lives and makes plans for her future. Isaac is part of it.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Leave (for good)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rewatching teen wolf, so I'm posting a self indulgent os about a couple I never shipped the first time I watched the show and two character I never been particulary protective of (especially Allison).

**W** hen Allison thinks of the girl she used to be -before the hunts and the deaths, the blood and the wars, before a new knowledge and a new strength- she can't really picture nothing but naivety.

She used to think, or maybe gave for granted not really focusing too much about it, to a life made of friends and family, someone to love and to eventually live her life with, grow up, graduate and maybe go to university. And life would have treated her well. 

She didn't think about perfection -it wouldn't be unreachable and honestly she wasn't that kind of person who looked for reachable things neither- but she counted on at least a bit of happiness and joy, ability to get up and deal with everything that life would give her. A normal life, full of ups and downs, lived like a normal woman growing and blooming. 

But then the hunts, the deaths and the blood came and she found a new strength, a new voice to speak louder and obviously things changed. 

Allison can't say she's unhappy, she can't at all. She loves and she's loved, she's stronger and more capable at seeing straight, she fights and leaves finally the naivety behind.

It's been years now and she collected many victories in the wars her friends and her never ask for, but in which they found themselves into anyway. Scott didn't ask for a bite and Lydia never asked to touch death so many times, in the same way Allison didn't ask to be born into a family of hunters. She embraced it, she melted into the violence that followed her ancestors for generations and changed it over her character, growing stronger both physically and psychologically. 

After years, now, she's happy even though the constant struggle of protecting everyone at any cost and running against time when someone's life is in danger. She's almost used to it at this point, as the adrenaline of the first times is slowly letting space to always more terror because today they made it again, but tomorrow? Tomorrow, Allison doesn't know.

She doesn't know if she will graduate or if she will go to uni, or if she will stay in Beacon Hills after all, once found a bit of peace. If she will ever find it at all.

Her house is weirdly quiet that night, as it happens everytime she carries her tired body through the main door of the appartement and the terror takes again all her heart, leaving the adrenaline of the fight back with her arrows and gloves that are now lying on her room. Her clothes have been lost all around the place, from the hallway to the bedroom, leaving her bare feet, pale legs and milky shoulders. 

The bathroom is quiet as well and Allison is glad when she hears the sound of the water being open and falling on the ceramic bathtub. Her naked self shivers as she touches the cold and pale surface to sit tirelessly and the water finally reaches her feet fingers first and then the rest of her milky body, that wants to just lay down for a while. Maybe a bit more.

The level of the water became higher and higher, until it's nice and her limbs adjust with the new temperature.

"Is the water okay?"

Allison would like to say she forgot about Isaac being there just because he didn't talk for the whole ride back home, but she would lie. He may have seemed incapable of expressing any words at all, but she felt his presence for the ride and then back to the apartment, his feelings showing through silence and his steps dancing like a shadow behind her. It was impossible to not notice him, or forget about him at all, even if she tried. In the bathroom, the water starts to turn into a pale crimson and Allison nods.

Her hands float around her scratched legs, her shoulder burns and the girl should know that all the blood coloring the clean water means that the wound at her back won't heal by itself. It keeps burning reminding her of all the losses and the deaths, the violence and the pain. 

She pulls her head down the surface of the water and she doesn't count the seconds she spends underwater, eyes open and the vision of the ceiling of her apartment blurry, moving and slipping away like she should maybe running after it. Catching it. But she's tired. 

She stays underwater until her breath starts turning more frantic and until Isaac's face pulls itself closer to hers from his previous sitting position on the cold ceramic floor, telling her he's worried. As she blinks another last time, looking at the young boy framed by the ceiling, she resurfaces and takes a long deep breath, relieved to do it again. Isaac's hard expression relaxes. 

There's a moment of stall, of silence and eyes wary, careful of the other. Then the girl relaxes, or appears less nervous and scary, and Isaac is pushed to do the same, finally pressing his cheek against the edge of the bathtub. However, he's looking at her with a mix of concern and admiration. She should tell him he's terrible at hiding feelings, because he talks a lot without even thinking about consequences and when he doesn't he says things anyway. His face can't contain not even one emotion he's going through, letting everyone else reading him easily. 

Allison pushes her faces in front of his, laying on the cold and now wet ceramic edge of the bathtub and just stares at his light and constantly wide open eyes, observing her like he doesn't really know what to expect about her next move. She smiles shyly and he flinches in surprise.

"Do you ever think about leaving?"

If the smile shakes Isaac, the question takes him completely off guard, turning his stomach upside down. He blinks, with his face dirty of someone else blood, his curls falling on his forehead and his t-shirt half ripped. The boy takes his time, another moment of heavy silence, before swallowing and deciding how to respond to the unusual question.

"I don't know" he whispers, so close to Allison that she can't feel his breath tickling her face. "Maybe"

"How couldn't you be sure?" she asks with words barely blown away. "You thought of it, or you didn't"

Isaac shrugs. "I did, before my dad died" 

"After?" 

He bites his lips, balancing his next words on the tip of his tongue. "Just a couple of times maybe before... Settling down"

"With Scott?"  _ and the pack? _ is what she means. 

At the beginning, he doesn't answer. It's like he's studying her words, as much as his own. Then, a long moment later, he seems to accept what's going to come out next from his mouth. He swallows just once: it's the only sign of uncertainty. "With you"

Allison's heart twists, turns up and down in her chest, but she's better than him at hiding feelings and not showing any emotions, except for the ones she wants the other to see. And she wants him to know how she feels, because a life made of uncertainties made her rethink every relationship with the people close to her, even more now than when she was a naive girl, wishing for anything but building a circle of friends and dating nice people. Now, she just takes everything and whatever she can get and Isaac is a special relationship. They may not be in an official one, walking hands to hands like she used to do when she was with Scott, all giggles and sweet smiles, but they -Isaac and her- are living in uncertain times and dangerous situations so they just want to have someone to look over and kiss in the dark, instead of walk romantically with in the school hallways.

They are partners in many ways and this is everything they want for now, if it means looking for the other and feeling the now familiar warmth that reassures at night.

"With me" Allison repeats and the little smile she gives to the boy is contagious. The bathroom stays silent for another couple of seconds, before she talks again, tone soft like a caress. "I want to. To leave"

"Leave?" Isaac asks again, this time there's a bit of panic in his voice. "Now?"

She shakes her head a bit, hair wet sticking around her pale face and her lips that refrains to show how the wound on her shoulder is burning like fire on her skin. She doesn't doubt him cleaning her up after the bath. He always does, while his wounds are already healing.

"No," Allison assures, like a secret. "After school. When there will be a reason to leave, to look for a change. I can't leave now"

"Where will you go?" 

"Anywhere away from Bacon Hill" she whispers. A pause. "I can't see myself in the family business” a pause. “Not anymore" 

"That's a plan" Isaac's eyes lower as he talks and observes the water, turning dark, almost brownish. "You thought a lot about it"

"I did," Allison replies, quietly, before the real run. "And I thought about us, you know? Leaving together" Isaac's head snaps so quickly, that Allison's face has to go backwards on the edge of the bathtub to not be hit by his surprised reaction. "If you want to" 

There's no answer after that, because Isaac -rushed and excited Isaac, as just him can be- is already pressing his lips over her, bodies warm and mouths breathing each other. There's no answer after that, because Isaac doesn't need to do it by words and just needs to be himself: a sparkle that can't be tamed, a sarcastic kid grew up too fast and that attached himself to any kind form of love. Isaac just wants to be loved and Allison happens to want it too, so what's better than doing it with each other? Be loved by the other like they waited all their short but hard lives to. 

That night, Isaac tells Allison he loves her when he dries her out of the bathtub, shaking like a leaf, stitching her wound with frantic hands and taking her pain after. It's relieving for Isaac, because Stiles always tells him he's useless at being helpful, but it seems like Allison can see and appreciate even his weakest attempts. 

As they lie down on the soft mattress, calling them in their sleep and dreams, hopefully a couple of nice ones after that tremendous night, Isaac thinks that suddenly the idea of leaving doesn't seem a bad one. 

Maybe, thinking of them a couple of months or years ago, it would put him in a bad place. It would have felt like he was being a coward, escaping because it would have been simpler, both when his dad was still alive and when he joined Scott's pack, fighting for lives he didn't know he could protect. He wasn't even good at fighting for himself, even less for someone else. 

But now, feeling Allison gripping him tight, like she's scared to lose him into such a precarious world, he's convinced that it's the right thing to do. Leaving for good, doing the best they can -together- until they will be independent enough to settle down in another place and looking for a life which isn't made of danger, pain and anger. This is the only one they know, but there isn't a limit to knowledge. Is it? 

They fall asleep between a question and another, a thought about the future and a heavy breath. Then he's sure to hear Allison whispering the three words when he's about to pass out and can't fight that sense of lightness all around his chest.

Isaac isn't certain if he dreamed it or not, but he takes everything he can in those hard times.


End file.
